


Creepypasta: Sang Noir

by Creepypasta_Yve



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Creepypasta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creepypasta_Yve/pseuds/Creepypasta_Yve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends forever...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creepypasta: Sang Noir

** Sang Noir **

_By: Creepypasta_Yve_

 

I’ve always lived in a small town, so I never had that many friends growing up. I only had three people to really talk to when I was away from my family. Cecil, she was the oldest of the group, Kalab, and Jackson. Well Cecil was the only girl in our group, but we would treat her like one of the guys. She would always wear jeans, gloves, and her old tattered, camouflage hoodie. Now that I think about it, I had never really seen her arms. She was that person in every group of friends that could make anyone happy, she was always so cheerful. I never really understood why my parents looked so sad whenever she was at my house, I never understood until now. Cecil and I were inseparable throughout elementary school, but when we got to middle school she became more distant. She would be out of school for weeks at a time, and when she came back she would look worse than she did before. If any of us tried to ask or show concern she would only brush us off with an “I’m fine,” or “Don’t worry,”.

Her once peachy skin tone was now a ghostly pale, her big bright eyes were now dark and sad, her eyes were circled with dark circles, she looked dead. I remember distinctly, one summer day when we were outside playing and I ran into her. She felt so fragile and cold, like a porcelain doll that would break at any given moment.

We were in 6th grade when it happened, she hadn’t been to school in a month and we were all worried. Our teacher, Mrs. Gray, was lecturing us about talking during her lesson when the intercom bell rung. “ _I need Kalab Greene and Carson Harrison in the office._ ” The secretary's voice boomed. I looked to my friend as I stood and we made our way to the door. “What do you think they want us for?” Kalab asked, in a nervous voice. I shrugged. “Guys, wait up!” Jackson’s voice rung as he jogged towards us. We were standing outside the office doors when we noticed the police officers, thinking the worst we shakily opened the door.

There were two officers, one with a thick brown mustache and the other was almost completely bald. “Hello, my name is Officer Henry, and my partner Officer Franklin.” The bald officer greeted. “Would you came with us, we need to ask you some questions.” I could feel the fear radiating off my two friends, and the older officer must have noticed too. “Oh, you’re not in any trouble. We just need to talk.” He turned and followed the mustached male into a side office.

We sat in the cushioned chairs as Franklin’s intimidating gaze shook us to our bones. “Were you three acquainted with a Ms. Cecil Garrison, yes or no?” We nodded. “Good, good. Now, would you please share with me the last time you saw her, in person.” I was confused at this, “Why?” I questioned. Officer Franklin stepped forward. “Her family was found dead, but she was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t a trace of her there.” “What?!” We exclaimed. Officer Henry smacked Franklin in the back of the head and sent him a stern look. “Please, we’re doing what we can, just answer the question.” His voice was much sterner than before. “Um, I saw her about a three weeks ago, at the park. She was walking along the woods where we hang out. Uh, I couldn’t go to her because I was in a car, but I know it was her, she had her jacket.” Jackson said shakily. “What did her jacket look like?” “She would always wear it, I’ve never seen her take it off. It’s a tattered camo hoodie.

“Would you be willing to show us where exactly?” We shook our heads and he pushed a landline phone towards us. “Call your parents.” He said, taking the blank file from Franklin and wrote something down.

After we called our parents, we were escorted to one of the police cars and climbed into the back. The ride was silent until the familiar sight of the playground and trees came into sight. The officer opened the door and we filed out. Officer Franklin was already inspecting the treeline when we arrived. He was taking pictures. “What’d you find?” Henry asked, looking closely at the ground. “Footprints.” He stated, cautiously trudging into the trees. “If she came here, she’s probably at the tree.” Kalab suggested.

“The tree?” Officer Henry questioned. “Yeah, we found this big tree and we built a clubhouse there.” Officer Franklin looked back at us. “Well then, show us.” “It’s pretty far in there.” I said looking at the darkening sky, it was winter so it got darker much earlier. Franklin pulled a duffle bag from his car. He gave all of us an oversized construction vest, you know those bright orange ones with the glowing things on the side when light hits it, and a flashlight.

He and Officer Henry through on their own and we started towards the tree. It didn’t feel right in the woods normally I would love to come out here and just never want to leave, but now I wanted to turn tail and run out. The bitter cold pricked at my skin, causing my nose to run and cheeks to flush a light red. The sky was a mixture of various reds, purples, yellows with darkening blue hue. The moon slowly peaked out from beneath the clouds as the sun slowly sank into the distance.

We were about quarter of the way there when the smell hit us. It smelt of rot and decay. We looked around the ground for any dead animal, but found none. On the ground at least. Jackson suddenly vomited. “Jackson, you alright?” Kalab asked, approaching him. He shook his head and weakly pointed up. I looked above myself and a drop of crimson blood dripped to my face, just missing my eye. “Jesus Christ,” Officer Henry grimaced. There was a dead deer ripped in half, its organs strewn about the tree limbs like party streamers.

Other smaller animals were turned inside out and their intestines tied them up like lanterns or balloons. We looked around more and noticed there were more, making what seemed to be a pathway. We trekked on, our flashlights guiding us and the occasional flash and click of the camera. The path of rotting animals lead straight to the tree. The boards that made the downstairs wall were covered in handprints and chunks of flesh and bone. The opening was now decorated with animal pelts and skulls. The two officers pulled out their guns as they approached the structure.

Silently they entered we stayed outside and waited for their okay. It was silent. I could hear the creaking of the latter that lead to the second section of the clubhouse, and then a loud thud. Several gunshots were heard as well as the screams of one of the officers. An ungodly screech sounded and both officers stumbled out. Officer Henry was bleeding heavily and Franklin was panting. Henry’s eyes were wide with horror as well as Franklin's. “That-That was no child. That THING was no human.” Henry exclaimed fearfully. Franklin carried his to a nearby tree and sat him against it, pulling out his walkie talkie. “This is O-Officer Franklin, and we-we need medical assistance, immediately.” He breathed out urgently. His only response was static, “Hello? Anyone, please. HELLO!” I had never seen a grown man cry, much less cry in fear for his mother.

“What happened?” I asked shakily. Franklin looked at me with a tear stained face. “That.” He pointed to the clubhouse. “Is no little girl. It’s not human.” I looked at Officer Henry and noticed him tieing his belt to his bicep, just over four deep, long gashes. My eyes widened and I backed away slightly. “Cecil!” Kalab shouted into the clubhouse. Jackson tried pulling his back but to no avail. “K-Kalab?” A weak voice called from inside the structure. “Cecil, are you ok?” He said nearing the entrance. “Get away from that thing, it’s dangerous!” Officer Franklin called, stomping towards the two.

It wasn’t until now that I noticed her jacket in Henry’s hands. I snatched it from his hands and turned to the rest of the group. Franklin was pulling Kalab away from the door. He was flailing, kicking, and punching, trying to escape his grasp. “Let me go! You’re scaring her!” He screamed as he pounded his back. I tried to get past him but Henry had grabbed my leg. I fell on my face, Cecil’s jacket just out of my reach.

A loud growl caused everything to go silent. All eyes were on the doorway. Cecil’s small frail body emerged from the darkness. She was shivering, her body looked to only be made of skin and bone. Her arms were covered in scars and bruises, as well as her shoulders and legs. Her jeans looked like they were put through a paper shredder to their knees, and her shirt hung loosely to her bony shape. The dark circles around her eyes were deeper and, from her skin reflecting the moonlight, her eyes shone.

She glared at Officer Franklin, “Put. Him. Down.” She growled. He dropped Kalab and stumbled back. She turned to Kalab and her eyes softened and she smiled. I saw Officer Henry pull out his pistol, but before I could do anything he shot at her. “Cecil!” We yelled in unison, only to find that she was unphased by the bullet wound.

Her head snapped toward Henry and she growled. She was suddenly right in front of him. His eyes were wide with pure terror at the girl in front of him, now Cecil was two grades higher than us. She wasn’t the biggest 8th grader by a long shot, but she could scare the living daylights out of you if you made her mad. She loomed over him, we couldn’t see her face anymore but we could see her still. Her long curly brown hair turned a midnight black and it flattened out, looking wet. Her fingernails grew sharper and I could feel the air around us grow colder. The place where she was shot oozed a thick black liquid as it slowly disappeared. “N-Now, Cecil, le-let’s talk about thi-this.” He reasoned. A demonic giggle escaped her blue lips as she tilted her head. “My name’s not Cecil, anymore.” She breathed, her real voice conjoining the demonic one creating a horrifying duet. “Call me Black Blood.” She sunk her claws into his neck and that was when we started running. Officer Franklin picked us up and ran, by the time we got out we were caked in mud and blood. Franklin drove us to the police station and our parents were called. They explained to our parents what had happened and we were rushed home and forced to pack.

That was 10 years ago, I’m 31 now and it’s my birthday. Cecil never missed my birthday, and never has. She knocked on my door again and left her present. Another note. “Sang Noir” I was confused to say the least, almost every single present she gave me was either a picture or drawing never actual words. I placed the note into the box with all the others and went to my computer. I typed in the words and I was immediately taken to a website. It was a story.

 

“ _The Sang Noir, or Black Blood, is a mythical creature seen as a young woman or girl. This creature has been suspect to thousands of murders around the world, all of which involved only adults. All adults were said to have children who of which were abused or neglected._ _The Sang Noir marks its victims children, its ability to sense a child's pain will lead it to their victim’s demise. If this creature was to mark you, you would have its mark. A heart with an ‘X’ through the middle, the creature will protect you and kill for you. If someone was to harm you, it would know and solve the problem. This creature is something you do NOT want to get involved with. If you already are, there’s nothing you can do.”_

 

I felt my room grow colder, the hairs on my neck prickled up as I turned around. There was a mirror above my computer and I saw Sang Noir. Her damp black hair hanging down her features, her pale skin, and dark eyes. I stared at the scar that decorated my neck, a heart with an ‘X’. I turned around and looked at my friend. She looked like she did the day we met, Jackson and Kalab stood at her sides. They were back to being 11-year-olds, smiling. I knew it was fake, both boys were dead. I smiled, tears pricking in my eyes as she smiled happily and reached her hand out. I reached out to her, my now smaller hand reached out and took her own. I was happy again. I was free.


End file.
